The Hawk's Moon
by hawkmoon93
Summary: This is a tale of Eomer and Lothiriel, but it is not as the chroniclers have written; rather it is the story of a half-elven healer and her part in the War of the Ring. Note: There is a bit of war violence, but it is vague and not graphic.
1. Chapter 1

I have always had a soft spot for my character Cahira. She has been in my head since sixth grade and has gone through a great deal of editing and re-designing. Just a note, I do not own Lord of the Rings.

**Part 1: Beginnings**

The Eyries were a beautiful place to behold, with sweeping cliffs and clear blue skies. The Eagles made their home high above the ground to keep their young away from predators and so that they had easier access to the wide skies above. It is in the Eyries that Ivriniel, former princess of Dol Amroth, sister to Imrahil, chose to make her home. Ivriniel was a traveler by nature, and as her journeys took her farther and farther from Gondor, it was longer and longer since she saw her family. She chose to take residence among the Eagles because it was in the Eyries that she felt true peace. It would be in the lands near the Eyries that she would first meet her beloved: Toreindel, an elf lord from Lothlorien.

She was gathering herbs in the forests near the Eyrie when a band of elves faded out from the forest. Their leader was Lord Toreindel, and he wanted instructions to get to the Eagles, as his liege-lady requested that he contact them about an important matter. The young Ivriniel, instead of merely giving him instructions, offered to take him and his men to the Eagles. As they walked together, he was struck by her curious nature and the way the light shone from her large blue eyes, and in turn, she was entranced by his tranquil voice and the way the wind swept through his long, dark hair. Attachments between elf- and man-kind are a rare thing, but in that simple afternoon journey from the base of the mountains to the top of the Eyrie, the two fell in love. Time passed, and Toreindal, or Tor as Ivriniel called him, would visit, and it was from one of these visits that their daughter, Cahira Lothiriel Hawkmoon was born. She was named by them both, for different reasons. Cahira was the name of one of the ancestral spirits that lived in Tor's forest home, while the name Lothiriel came from one of Ivriniel's ancestors. It was actually the Eagles who dubbed the child Hawkmoon, due to her mother being a healer and thus under the sign of the moon and Tor's familial standard bearing a hawk. She was a happy child, but one that did not have her father very long or very often, because he had duties in Lothlorien that needed attending. Her mother never complained about seeing her beloved sporadically or the rare messages that he sent, but her longing for him was apparent to those that knew her well.

Cahira's earliest memories were of her and her mother looking out over the cliffs of the Eagle's Eyrie, watching the nestlings take their first flights. She knew that her mother was a beautiful woman, brown of hair and blue of eyes, with her blue healer's marks prominent upon her cheekbones. When she was young, Cahira used to paint her own cheeks with berry juice in a semblance of the ones upon her mother's face. The girl had no real knowledge of her mother's family in Dol Amroth, nor did she know much about her father's family either. Cahira's slanted grey eyes and slightly pointed ears spoke of her father's Elven nature, but other than her mother's occasional wistfulness when another year passed without a message from him, Cahira did not think much of her father.

The Eagle's Eyrie was not the safest environment for a young girl to grow up in, but between her mother's watchful eye and the eagle's ability to communicate to each other mind to mind, Cahira managed to escape some of the more lethal dangers of the Eyrie. She grew tall and strong from running to catch up with the fledgling Eagles or climbing the cliffs to visit her neighbors. Her mother taught her the difference between deadly and edible plants, how to be polite and mannerly among other beings, and how to travel with a single pack and a smile on one's face. The Eagles taught her swiftness of body and mind, honesty, and bravery in spite of fear. From her father, she learned a most important, though bitter lesson: value the ones you love and each day with them, because you never know when it will be your time to leave.

When she was fifteen, her father died. She remembered climbing up to the cave where she and her mother lived and seeing her mother weeping on the floor, clutching a letter to her breast. From the letter, Cahira gathered that he and his men had been attacked in the forest by a superior force of Orcs. The elves had been defending the borders of Lothlorien. Her father's body was to be sent back into the arms of the trees in one week, not enough time for Ivriniel or Cahira to walk to Lothlorien. Hastily, Cahira started gathering travel packs so that they could fly on the backs of the Eagles to get there in time, but her mother stopped her. Ivriniel said that she and Cahira could not just fly into the forests of Lothlorien, because it was disrespectful to the rulers, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.

No matter how hard she tried, Cahira could not convince her mother to go, so she decided to go with her Eagle neighbor Freyr. They flew to the borders of Lothlorien, but when Cahira sought entry to the realm on the grounds that her father was an elf lord of Lothlorien, she was denied. The border guards that stopped her and Freyr, while sympathetic towards her loss, because they too loved Lord Toreindal, could not let her pass, by orders of the Lady Galadriel. Cahira, angered at being denied from seeing her father's funeral, wrote a letter to the Lord and Lady and requested that one of the scouts take it as soon as possible. In honor of her father, one guard did so and returned hours later with a message and a bundle.

The message was from Lord Celeborn, a friend of Cahira's father. He wrote that while he grieves for the loss of a friend and for the loss that Cahira and her mother are bearing, he cannot let them into Lorien because they are not elves nor are they seeking sanctuary. He offered his condolences and said that if she ever needed a favor, all she would have to do was to call to any nearby hawk, and the creature would be honor-bound to aid her to the best of its ability. Cahira then unwrapped the bundle and found a small signet ring emblazoned with a hawk and a tree of Lothlorien, which she put in the pouch at her belt. Also in the package were a set of Elvish long knives and a bow and quiver set. The scout that brought the message and bundle from Celeborn commented that the weapons had belonged to her father and his family for centuries and that she is quite fortunate that Celeborn saw fit to bless her with at least a small part of her father to remember him by. Cahira only retorted that if Celeborn saw fit to bless her and her mother, than perhaps he should have allowed Toreindal to live in the Eyrie. With those words, she sprang onto Freyr's back and they flew back to the mountains.

After her beloved's death, Ivriniel began to fade. She had been strong for so long, with the thought of seeing Tor keeping her focused on life, but with him gone forever, she had nothing left to hold her to life but Cahira, and the girl had long since chosen her own path. Ivriniel became ill and less than a year after the death of Toreindal, Cahira lost her mother. The Eyrie grieved for the loss of such a bright and caring healer, a brave traveler, and a long-forgotten princess, but Cahira grieved for the loss of the mother that had sheltered her from harm and taught her all that she knew. Before she lit the pyre to burn her mother's body, Cahira took the healer's headband from her mother's body and tied it around her own neck, to remember Ivriniel. With the lighting of the pyre, Cahira bid farewell to her childhood and took a step into an uncertain future.


	2. Chapter 2

The story is moving along, though there is a lot of background information and description that needs to be included. This part takes place during the Two Towers.

**Part 2: Idyll's End and a Wizard's Return**

In the years that followed, Hawkmoon took up the moon-crested headband and served as the Eyrie's healer, much as her mother had. Many hatchlings came into the world on her watch, and the Eagle warriors sought her curing when they were injured in the hunt or in defense of the Eyrie. Because of her service to the Eagles, she earned her own blue tattoos. Instead of the single line pattern her mother chose, Hawkmoon wished to be marked with crescent points that followed the line of her prominent cheekbones.

Her reputation spread far, as far as the Eagles' wings traveled. Elves from Lothlorien would on occasion visit to seek her opinion on a difficult case and often she would be called to nearby villages of Men to deliver babies or to diagnose sicknesses that puzzled the local herb wives.

Cahira also made it a habit to range farther and farther from her cliff home in an attempt to comprehend the world around her. If she encountered a puzzle that she could not solve or a question that could not be answered, she would ask wise Freyr, his mate Landraiva, or her nest brother, the swift Gwaihir. The Eagles would do their best to answer those questions, and if they could not, they would fly with the healer upon their back to the place in question.

In those journeys, she met many different beings. She learned how to defend herself from warriors – Human, Dwarven, and Elvin – who could be persuaded to trade a lesson in knife-work or archery in return for a packet of her healing salves or a few bunches of discarded, yet rare Eagle feathers. She travelled through many small towns, and a few larger ones, acquiring leather armor for her chest, legs, and forearms. She realized that she needed to hide her Elvin ears while walking among Men and that it was essential that she wear tunics with high slits up the thighs, so as to be able to run faster. The healer also learned to accept gifts of thanks from honest people, things like small pouches to hang off of her belt, pieces of silver and copper, and even a small moon charm she took to wearing pierced through her left ear. Thus she learned gained a greater understanding of the laws and conduct of the beings around her.

It was on a flight with Gwaihir that her fate began to take shape. He had been tasked by Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien to find the wizard Gandalf. The Eagle had been roaming the skies of Middle Earth for quite some time, searching for the Stormcrow and Gwaihir desired company, so he requested that Cahira join him in the hunt. Gladly, she packed her satchel and extra blankets in preparation for the long flight. One of the places that the Eagle still needed to search was throughout the mountains of Moria. The snow was thick and the air cold, but both were used to the conditions of living at a higher elevation. Hawkmoon hunched closer to the warmth of Gwaihir's back, using her half-Elvin sight to try to pierce the brightness of the sun's reflection upon the snow while the Eagle used his predatory eyes to watch for movement.

Suddenly, Gwaihir let out a shrill, yet triumphant shriek and started plummeting towards what Cahira could discern as a small figure lying still on the snowy peak of Celebdil. She hastily dismounted and unwrapped a blanket from her pack. The healer brushed a thick layer of snow off the figure, revealing the unconscious body of an old man with long white hair and a white beard. She covered him with the blanket and then checked his heartbeat and his breathing, noting that despite his exposure to the elements, the old man seemed healthy.

"Is this the wizard you were looking for?" she asked Gwaihir.

"It is Gandalf," he replied. "We need to bear him to safety in Lothlorien."

Hawkmoon agreed and helped the Eagle lift the unconscious wizard into his claws. She climbed onto his back and he sprang into the air, wings beating to gain altitude and speed as they raced to the home of the Elves.

While under normal circumstances, an Eagle landing directly in Lothlorien would have been exceedingly disrespectful, the dire nature of these conditions allowed for the unusual. Gwaihir's landing was heralded by a harsh screech and buffeting winds from his wings. Some o the Elves hastened from their elegant pavilion homes out of curiosity, while the noble guard of the Lord and Lady drew their weapons and surrounded the Eagle and his passengers.

"Hail, people of my father," called Hawkmoon. "My friend Gwaihir has fulfilled the Lady's request. We have found the wizard Gandalf and he is sorely injured."

One noble guard stepped forward, still brandishing his sword. "The Eagle is welcome, as is news of Gandalf the Grey, but we do not know you, half-elf."

She straightened her spine. "I am the daughter of Princess Ivriniel of Dol Amroth and the Eagle's Eyrie, and Lord Toreindel of Lothlorian. I am a healer and an Eagle-friend."

The guard relaxed his pose and sheathed his weapon. "I knew your father, youngling." He turned to the other guards, "Let them pass. They are on an important mission for our Lady." He beckoned forward two Elvin men with a stretcher between them. "Take the wizard to the Healing House. The Eagle and the half-elf come with me."

He led Gwaihir and Hawkmoon to a pristine and ancient clearing. A stunningly beautiful man was sitting on one of two thrones that appeared to be one with the tree behind it. He smiled kindly at the healer, while saying something in a liquidly musical language to the Eagle, making the being chuckle. He glanced to his right, his face lighting up, and the others' eyes followed. A delicate and breathtaking woman glided towards the other throne, her eyes infinitely wise as they seemed to assess Cahira. The ancient noblewoman saw the half-Elf's father in her slanted grey eyes, slim build, elevated height, and pointed ears, but there was also a great deal of her human mother as evidenced by the healer's dark brown hair, curved lips, and blue tattoos. "Welcome Gwaihir, swiftest of Eagles and Hawkmoon, Healer," said the Elvin woman as she gracefully took her seat. "I am Galadriel and this is my husband Celeborn." She directed her words towards the Eagle first. "Thank you for finding Gandalf for us. He has awakened and is recovering in the House of Healing as we speak."

Gwaihir nodded his great head in respect, "It was my honor, Lady. You and your husband have long been friends to the Eagles."

Galadriel smiled sweetly before gravely circling her head to look at Cahira. "I know you Cahira Hawkmoon. I believe several years ago you attempted to enter this realm without permission."

Cahira narrowed her eyes but maintained a neutral tone. "I only wished to attend my father's funeral. I was turned away at the borders of your realm. Why?"

Surprisingly, Celeborn answered. "You are the illegitimate child of our dear friend, Toreindal of the Hawk. You are also part human. We could not allow you passage into our lands to witness our rites. It would not be proper, not in this dark time. We did, however, fulfill the final wishes of your father. I hope that you are treating his weapons well, though I do not see them with you." He said this with a glint of humor in his ageless eyes.

"They are exquisite weapons, my Lord. I am fortunate in that I have not had great need to use them in defense yet."

A voice rang through the clearing. "I fear you will have need of them far sooner than you would prefer." The Lord and Lady glanced behind the healer and the Eagle, who spun around in shock. The wizard Gandalf was pacing slowly towards them. "I thank you Hawkmoon and Gwaihir for your aid. If you had not found me, I believe that I would have died upon that mountain top."

Galadriel's mouth curved faintly at the Stormcrow. "It is good to see you, old friend. I do believe, however, that you have become quite a bit more than our old friend, Gandalf the Grey."

"I have, dear Lady. I have died, seen the cosmos for all it truly is, and have been sent back to fulfill my role in this war. I am no longer the man that you knew, but so also am I not completely separate from Gandalf Greybeard. I must ask, Lord and Lady. Have you news of Frodo?"

Celeborn sighed and glanced at his wife. She nodded and he responded, "The Ringbearer and Samwise Gamgee have passed beyond my Lady's sight. Of the others, Boromir of Gondor has been slain, the other two Hobbits have been captured, and Aragorn, Prince Legolas, and Gimli are in pursuit. They are in Rohan, headed towards Isengard."

Gandalf's eyes were sad, but his voice was firm. "As much as I wish I could assist Frodo in his quest, I must aid those that I can reach. I will leave at once. Gwaihir, would it be in your power to assist me once again? I would ask you to fly me as to the borders of the Fangorn Forest so that I may intercept what remains of our Fellowship."

The Eagle's beak widened into a predatory grin, "It would not be the first time you have flown with me. I am ready to depart when you wish to."

"Before you leave," interrupted Galadriel, "My husband and I have a gift for you, from the forest itself." She began singing in Elvish, her husband joining her, his deeper voice intertwining with hers. They sang as one, and the forest answered their song. The great tree behind them began to glow and slowly branches lowered themselves, obstructing the thrones in a leafy embrace. The couple continued their chanting, and Cahira could feel something deep inside her responding. Her heart grew lighter and her eyes grew heavy. She could feel her sense of self getting lost in the thrum of magic and in the soul of the forest. The sensation of something slipping away was culminating into something that she could not identify. The song was picking up pace and the power of it was vibrating through the very tree roots. With one final, pure note, the song ended. Celeborn and Galadriel clasped hands, with her leaning against his shoulder. The leafy boughs of the tree withdrew from around the throne, revealing a shining white wooden staff with an entwined knot upon its head piece.

The Lady gripped and staff and moved smoothly to present it to Gandalf. "Every wizard needs a staff, old friend. This is our gift to you."

He took it, his hands sliding up to the head piece to caress the knot. He picked it up and spun it around, testing the weight and length. Satisfied, he set the bottom into the ground and leaned upon it. "This is a fine gift and I give you both my thanks. I must depart now." He moved to mount Gwaihir's back, but paused, looking intently at Cahira. "I understand that you are a very skilled healer."

"I am, sir. I have learned all my mother had to teach me, and I have had years of study and experience."

"Right now, the race of Men is fighting for survival against the darkness of Sauron's hordes. Your skills are desperately needed. If I were to ask you to travel amongst them, using your skills as needed, would you do it?"

"I beg your pardon for being blunt, but I believe that you would prefer me to be closer to the fields of battle, so that I may save more lives with my skills, instead of attending to the small injuries and complaints of the mountain villages, as I have been doing."

The Eagle looked slightly aghast at her disrespect, but Gandalf only chuckled. "That is exactly what I would prefer. I would also request that if I call you to a specific place, that you be there as soon as you possibly can. There is a shortage of proficient healers in the South, and I believe that you will be important in the scheme of things to come."

Cahira bowed her head in respect. 'If you call, I shall answer. That I promise on my healer's band and my father's bow."

"That is all that I can ask. I bid you all farewell." With a sweep of his staff, Gandalf leaped onto Gwaihir and the Eagle launched himself into the air. Cahira shielded her eyes from the dust, as did the Lord and Lady. When the earth settled, the healer bowed to the two rulers. "I have my orders. I thank you both for your hospitality, though I am afraid that I must stay here until another Eagle can be sent for to take me home."

Celeborn and Galadriel looked at each other. Galadriel stood and opened her arms. "You are welcome to take your rest here until it is time for you to leave. Perhaps you might stay in the same tree your father once used."

"If it would suit you," added Celeborn, "You might ask some of the noble guards to tell stories about your father."

Cahira walked away from the clearing, feeling the anger she had once felt towards the Elves for denying her the right to attend her father's funeral lessening, though it was still a part of her. In the time ahead, it will be more important to have a clear mind in order to navigate safely through the conflict to come.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, I can't believe that it is chapter three already. This one is kind of long, but it is the first meeting between Cahira and some of the other major characters, so I'm excited

**Part 3: Leaving Home and the Entry into Rohan**

Hawkmoon returned to the Eyrie as soon as she could call Freyr to fly her home. Because Gandalf bid her to make haste to the land of the Horselords and he insisted that she was needed, Cahira began her preparations for her journey. She went to the wooden chest at the foot of her bed and carefully unwrapping her father's bow and long knives, given to her by Celeborn after her father's death. Thoughtfully, she cleaned each weapon before slinging them into the sheathes across her back. She made her way into her stillroom and gathered as much of the medicinal herbs, potions, salves, and bandages as she could carry in the pouches at her waist and in her rucksack. Before leaving the cave that had been her home for so long, Cahira's gaze swept from the rooms she used to share with her mother and that would now stand empty in the healer's absence.

She climbed to the cliffs above her home to the nest of Freyr and Landraiva, the Eagles who had watched over her since she was small. She wished to bid farewell to these kind souls both as an act of courtesy and as a safety precaution so that the rest of the Eagles in the Eyrie would be aware of where she was going and for what reasons she would be leaving her nest.

The journey away from the Eyrie began an easy one, taking her through territory she had long since been roaming. It was only after five days of running that she reached the edge of where she had travelled before. The terrain was no longer cold and rocky, giving way to hilly forests, and then flat plains. She was now in, if not completely unknown territory, at least unfamiliar lands. She continued her trek south, not sure what to look for, but knowing that continuing in this direction would take her into Rohan and closer to conflict. The healer began running cautiously, stopping more frequently to listen for enemies with her half-Elvin senses and watching for roving hordes of Wild Men or Uruk-Hai with her Eagle-sight makeup on. The villages that she passed were either abandoned or burnt to ash, all evidencing signs of violence and bloodshed.

One day, after avoiding a mounted Warg patrol, she stopped in the shadow of Fangorn Forest to rest, careful not to step within its boundaries. She was startled by the cry of a hawk. It drifted down from the trees and she held her arm aloft to allow it to settle.

"Hello, daughter of the Hawklord," it called. "I have news for you from the White Wizard Gandalf."

"Greetings to you, friend Hawk," she replied. "What news do you bring?"

"He bids you to hasten to Helm's Deep. You will be needed there." The bird of prey settled its feathers then continued, "When I flew over, there was a long train of refugees fleeing to the fortress."

"Things must be dire. I will run there as swiftly as I can. Thank you, friend Hawk."

The bird chirruped with pleasure. "It is my honor to aid the daughter of our friend Toreindel." Cahira smiled and launched her arm into the air, allowing the hawk to take flight.

She decided to skirt Fangorn Forest and ran with as much haste as she could safely manage. She found herself following the river. It led her parallel to the foothills, a path that was easy enough to follow, as she knew that Helm's Deep was built directly into the mountains. After a day and a half's journey, she reached a rise overlooking the valley and the fortress.

Helms's Deep was an impressive sight to behold, especially to one whose idea of a stone dwelling was a cave in the Eyrie. As Cahira wearily picked her way down the slope to the corpse laden valley below, she could not help but notice the gaping hole in the Deeping Wall of the Hornburg. The healer could not fathom what black magic could have caused such destruction. The ground beneath her feet was soaked with the blood of the Uruk-Hai, foul creatures begotten beneath the shadow of the White Wizard's tower. The stench made her eyes water and as Cahira wiped the moisture away, her keen half-Elvin eyes were drawn to a group of horsemen riding down the long causeway that marked the entrance of the massive fortress.

Keeping her movements still and nonthreatening, Cahira halted and stood waiting for the riders to approach. There were eight riders in all, clad in the livery that marked them as under the command of the third Marshal of the Mark. They slowed their horses and stood them in a line, blocking Cahira's sight of the Hornburg. "Who are you, stranger, and what cause has you to come to this valley?" demanded the rider at the head of the group.

"I am Cahira Hawkmoon, healer, and I was called here by the wizard Gandalf," she replied.

"Why should we believe that Gandalf the White called you here? It is more likely that you are a spy of Saruman," declared another of the Riders.

Cahira could only release her breath in exasperation. "I can prove that I am not a spy of Saruman." She slowly put her hands up to her hair and pulled it back from her ears, revealing the tapered points that spoke of Elvin blood. "What elf do you know of that would willingly link themselves to the cause of the traitor Saruman?"

Only two days had passed since the men had witnessed an army of Elvin archers from Lothlorien come to their aid, and they could not find it within their hearts to continue their interrogation of what seemed to their eyes an oddly attired elf. Cahira herself was aware of the fact that these Riders thought her to be a full blood elf, but she decided that it would be better for now if she continued with the charade. One of the younger riders, a blonde youth who introduced himself as Anund offered her a perch behind him so that she would not have to walk the rest of the way, but Cahira refused, citing her lack of experience on horseback as reason enough not to ride. Anund was insistent that, as a guest, she must not walk, but again Cahira denied his request by quietly informing the young warrior that she would not ride and furthermore that she was more than capable of running as fast as Anund's horse could canter, if only someone would take her pack.

The leader of this group of Riders, Hallvard by name, took the healer's pack upon his mount and the Rohirrim and the woman proceeded up the cause way and into the Hornburg itself. The Riders dismounted and they escorted Cahira to the great hall of the fortress. As they climbed the stairs that led to the hall, Cahira was horrified at the number of corpses strewn across the grounds and at the sorry state that the majority of the men seemed to be in. The wounded were left lying in corners and other out of way places so as not to block the passage of the people walking around, but the injured were in a sorry state, crying for water, food, medicine, or even loved ones. The lucky few had their women or children to tend to them, but the majority of the men were left with only their wounds, their thoughts, and any nearby comrades for company. Cahira's heart was sore as she entered the great hall, and she knew that even if Gandalf was not here to vouch for her presence, she would have to convince those in power here to let her aid them with her healing abilities.

Hallvard led Cahira to a small room off of the main hall and she was presented to the people within as "The Elvin Healer Hawkmoon". The first was the Horselord himself, Theoden King of Rohan. The tall man nodded in response to her bow of respect. Also in attendance was the Ranger and Heir of Isildur, Aragorn; Legolas Greenleaf, the Elvin prince of Mirkwood; and the dwarf Gimli, son of Gloin. Cahira felt a twinge of nervousness in the presence of such great warriors, but she knew that she was intended to be among them as a healer and that eased her mind. Lord Theoden professed great curiosity as to why she came to Helm's Deep and the others looked on as she explained that she was summoned by Gandalf from her home in the Eagles' Eyrie to Rohan. Cahira explained that she is a healer of great skill and that she has come to help those who lie wounded after the great battle that had happened two days hence.

Aragorn looked upon the contrasted nature of her Elvin and human features and felt a twinge of sympathy about the type of prejudice he knew she would endure while in the land of men, though he had to wonder at Gandalf's motives in calling her to aid Rohan when there was an entire House of Healing to call upon in the land of Gondor and the elves also had skilled healers among them.

Unaware of Aragorn's thoughts, Cahira continued her tale to Theoden about her journey and her reasons for leaving her home. The only obstacle she had to face was explaining why she let Hallvard and the other riders think her to be a full elf instead of a human-elf half breed. Fortunately, luck was on her side because before she had to offer an account of her actions, Gandalf entered the room.

The White Wizard strode towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Thank you, Hawkmoon, for arriving as swiftly as you did. I was not expecting you until two days hence."

Blushing, Cahira replied, "You maintained that my skills would be needed urgently, so I hurried as fast as I could run."

"You have my gratitude, Healer. Your work lies outside." He clapped her on the shoulder and then gestured towards where the wounded men were laying outside of the main hall.

"I shall do my duty, sir." She bowed again to Theoden-King and then paced towards the exterior of the hall, passing a tall blonde warrior on the way out.

The warrior in question was Eomer, a Chief Marshall of the Riddermark. He lifted his eyebrow at her passage, take note of her unusual appearance. He took his place among the men inside before asking, "Who was that lady?"

Aragorn replied, "That is Cahira Hawkmoon, a half-elf from the Eagles' Eyrie. She was called here by Gandalf because of our need for a skilled healer."

"From the Eyries, you say? I had thought that only Eagles live there."

Legolas answered, "That is what is commonly thought, but on occasion, a rare number of beings are allowed to live in the cliffs along with the Eagles."

"I see." Eomer glanced at his uncle. "Is there a guide with her, to keep a close watch on her? We do not know this woman."

Theoden replied, "I have not sent a guide because she was referred here by the White Wizard. A ally of Gandalf should be trusted."

"That is what we thought of Saruman as well. I shall keep an eye on her as she works to cure our wounded." Eomer left the room in search of the healer.

Gimli began chuckling, and the others turned curious as to the source of his mirth. He wiped a tear from his eye, "Ah, younglings. It does not matter the race."

"What do you mean, friend Dwarf?" inquire Legolas. "Why would younglings and one's race matter?"

Theoden and Gandalf understood the jest and both exchanged glances. "What Gimli means," responded Gandalf "Is that young men of any race are always expected to feel curious when exotic young women appear."

Legolas' eyes widened in understanding and he too began to smile.

Eomer was unaware of his uncle and the other men's' banter at his expense because he was single-mindedly trying to catch up to the healer. He saw her crouched beside a man with a mass of rags wrapped around his head and his concerned wife. She had taken a small knife from her belt and was gently cutting the makeshift bandage away. Eomer inhaled swiftly when he saw the damage. The man's right eye was gone and there was a deep gash across the cheek. Hawkmoon gently laid a hand across the man's left cheek to settle him and then she reached into one of her belt patches and pulled out two bundles of herbs. The first one she mixed with water then mashed into a paste in her hand to rub across the man's wounds. The second bundle she handed to the wife. She gave some instructions and then patted the woman's hand before moving on to the next injured person.

He watched her move down the row of men propped against the side of the main hall. Some were alert and she could do her work and move on. Others were delirious with the pain and she would administer some herb or potion from her belt and they would slip into sleep. With the cases of an unfortunate few, she would whisper solemnly with any family or comrades nearby, giving them options. Those without anybody nearby, she would try to talk to. He was startled when one badly wounded warrior nodded weakly. She leaned down and kissed his bloody cheek before drawing another small knife from her belt, this one sharp and a bit longer than the herb knife. She rested it against the wounded man's throat. He lifted a trembling hand to cover her's and nodded once more. Before Eomer could shout for someone to stop her, she plunged it quickly and efficiently into his neck. The man died almost instantly.

The Marshal stomped to where she sat by the dead man and loomed over her. "What do you think you were doing, woman?" he asked angrily.

She looked up at him with grey eyes shining from unshed tears. "I was giving peace to a badly injured man. He would have died, but it would have taken a day or two, and he would have been in excruciating pain, no matter what I gave him to ease it. He asked me to do this, and as his healer, I complied."

"What right do you have to grant a mercy kill? You are not a fellow warrior!"

She sighed and then indicated her tattooed cheeks and the moon pendant on her headband. "I am a Healer, and that gives me a right to someone's treatment that supersedes all others."

Eomer's anger drained out of him as realization struck that she was not unthinkingly killing the wounded, but that she was acting within her rights and responsibilities as a healer. "I apologize, lady. That was ill-done on my part."

"It was, man of Rohan, but it was done with pure intentions. I must forgive that."

"I am Eomer, nephew to Theoden-King, and Third Marshal of the Mark."

"I am Cahira Hawkmoon, a healer and Eagle-friend. It is an honor to meet you, though I wish that the circumstances were better." Her glance towards all of the wounded and the damaged Hornburg spoke volumes.

'As do I, Healer. Are you in need of any assistance?"

She gave him an evaluating look. "Would you be comfortable taking orders from one such as me?"

He nodded.

"Then your assistance would be more than welcome."She indicated towards the other wounded strewn out around them. "We have a great deal of work to do."

Eomer worked for the next several hours, fetching water and cloth for bandages, holding down thrashing victims while Hawkmoon worked her craft, and comforting the families and friends of those undergoing the healer's ministrations. He also ordered some of the village folk who were loitering nearby to lend a hand, as they had no other tasks to attend to.

Time blurred. He remembered someone bringing a quick bite to eat and taking off his armor because it was inconveniencing his movement, but aside from that, the faces and cries of the wounded seemed never-ending, just one person after another. He worked side by side with however happened to be there, whether it be a village child or some warrior's wife, even the healer herself. Finally, he heard Cahira call to the helpers that they could take a rest and that there work was over for now. He saw her sitting on a rock and pointing to a place beside her. "Thank you for helping me," she said, after wearily taking a swig of water from a skin. She passed it to him and he gratefully accepted it, also taking a long swallow.

He heard someone calling his name, and he slowly turned his head to see his sister bounding down the stairs, holding her skirts up with one hand and a basket in the other.

"I brought you provisions, brother. You and the healer have been working all day and I am sure that you are exhausted." She set the basket down and lifted the cloth covering it to reveal bread, apples, and a small tureen. He blanched a bit at the sight of the tureen, but she scolded him. "I did not make the soup, so it is safe to eat."

"You have my thanks," pronounced Hawkmoon. "I confess that I am very hungry." She and Eomer tore into the food while Eowyn watched amused. Finally they finished, both satisfied with their full bellies. Eomer stood up and stretched at the same time as Cahira stood up to dislodge her ponytail from where she was sitting on it. He then brought Eowyn over to meet the healer properly.

"This is my sister, the Lady Eowyn," introduced Eomer. His hands were planted on his sibling's shoulders in an affectionate gesture. He looked down at the blonde woman. "Eowyn, this is Healer Cahira Hawkmoon."

The White Lady of Rohan took the chance to looked curiously at the oddly dressed woman in front of her, noting the leather chest and leg armor, the bow and quiver across her back, the long knives poking out from under the quiver, the bunches of herbs and small bags at her waist, and the long horsetail of dark brown hair; however, there was one trait that she found to be most peculiar and she asked, "What is that paint around your eyes? Is it an affectation of your people or does it have some significance?"

Cahira looked a bit taken aback at the question, but she grinned in a friendly fashion. "I believe that you are the first person to ask me that question. Most people I encounter remark upon the high slits in my tunic, then my cheek tattoos. My eye paint has been magicked so that I can see with the sight of an Eagle. I wear it when I travel, so as to be more alert. I confess that I forgot that I was wearing it."

Eowyn tilted her head to the side in a perplexed manner. "Why would you need Eagle-sight?" She waved at the healer's exposed pointed ears. "I can tell that you are of Elvin descent. Are not those senses keen enough?" Eomer shot a warning frown at her and tightened his hands on her shoulders.

The healer only laughed. "That is a valid question, but I am only half Elvin. The sight of an Eagle is far superior to even most full Elves."

Eowyn stepped forward and grasped Cahira's slender hands. "You should come with me. I am sure that you need cleansing after so lengthy a journey and after all of the hard work you did." Hawkmoon nodded and the two women walked back towards the keep, leaving Eomer to smile at the prerogative of women and how quickly they make friends with each other.


End file.
